A Good Excuse To Be Bad Read Online Free PDF Page B

who had taken it upon themselves to meddle in my life, whether I wanted her to or not.
    I opened my eyes. Justus held a loaf of bread out to me. I squinted. I hadn’t become comfortable taking Communion that way.
    I grew up in a small, agricultural town four hours south of Atlanta. We—like most of the state of Georgia—lived differently than the people in Atlanta. In my home church, we didn’t eat off a bread loaf during Communion. No, we ate stale, white crackers until a few years back when we switched to white, tasteless discs.
    Come to think of it . . . those discs and crackers in an uncanny kind of way reminded me of Ava. Tasteless. She had called me twice this morning, although she was supposed to come to my house last night with the kids. I was curious about what changed her mind. I was pissed off that I postponed my sort of date with Justus for nothing. She had some nerve. When it came to me, she had little taste.
    I thought about calling in my rain check with Justus. Yet, despite the fact that today was Thursday, it didn’t feel right to spring my new availability on him here.
    Justus continued to hold the bread toward me. The bread looked warm and yummy. Justus looked warm and yummy. I blushed and lowered my head. Did the man know what he was doing to me? This has got to stop.
    He continued our monthly ritual. His eyes shimmered through me. “Eat this in remembrance of me.”
    I nodded faster than a bobblehead and ate. The sooner I got out of here, the better.
    He leaned toward me and touched my head again. “Be encouraged, young mother.”
    Something about the way he looked at me and the way he said those words told me that he meant it. I remembered his concern for me the other night and his question about my profession. I could see in his eyes that he was reminding me that he was praying for a better way for me. It was the nicest, purest thing I’d ever heard from a man in my life. I lowered my head and cried. Was Justus right? Was I being too risky? Was I really doing the best I could for Bella?
    I knew that I couldn’t be a father to her, no matter how hard I tried, no matter my black belt or my ballistics training. I couldn’t be him and was beginning to wonder if Bella needed a dad. The thought of Bella’s disappointed face when I attended a Father’s Day, Father /Daughter dance, or Donuts for Dads event made me feel worse, not blessed. I wanted to be more for her because Bella was so many things to me. She was everything. Being her mother had taught me a truth that I wished to God I had learned eons ago: Second chances are hard to come by. When you get one, take it, then change to honor the chance.
    Immediately, I thought of Ava. After all, I did owe her and she owed me a chance to make things right between us. I got off my knees and ran toward my purse, but couldn’t find my phone. I had left it in the car, so I raced out the sanctuary to find another one.
    There was an old beige rotary phone that sat at the welcome desk in the narthex. I found it behind the desk, picked it up, and dialed.
    But as soon as her voice purred through the phone, something weird happened. Someone behind me called my name. I held the phone to my head and searched the room. Had the Communion juice made me crazy?
    Someone tapped my shoulder. I spun around. I jumped. Justus.
    â€œHello,” he said.
    â€œHello?” Ava asked through the phone.
    â€œYes,” I said to them both.
    â€œAngel, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were on the phone.”
    â€œI’m not, really.” I removed the phone from my ear, but could hear Ava screaming my name. I put the phone receiver over my heart to muffle her voice. “What do you need, Justus?”
    â€œWhen you’re done with your conversation, can I speak with you in my office?” His deep voice held a quiet power over me like the last, low thunder after a storm. “I need to discuss a private